


No Such Luck

by ladyflowdi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst and Humor, Awkwardness, Bad Sex, Developing Relationship, Humor, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-26
Updated: 2006-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyflowdi/pseuds/ladyflowdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that they didn’t try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Such Luck

**Author's Note:**

> PArt of my LJ-to-AO3 project.

Rodney had to admit that, while he’d never been a cleanly fellow even in the best of circumstances, his quarters had become the cradle of life.

Crusty mugs of tepid coffee days (and possibly weeks) old sat everywhere, brewing bacteria the biologists had only previously dreamed of. Moldy plates of long forgotten meals lay stacked on his desk, and Rodney thought, if there had been bugs on Atlantis, they’d be having a field day right about now. As it was, he was growing interesting new life forms unique to the Pegasus galaxy in the remains of a meatball MRE, and was pretty sure that there was an entire civilization at the dawn of the written word in the bottom dregs of mystery meat from the mainland that not even Rodney had been able to stomach for more than a few bites.

The entire contents of his closet were on the floor – socks, shoes, civvies, underwear and t-shirts. He was pretty sure some of it was actually stuck to the floor by now, but when he’d literally had only had three-point-seven minutes to change and make it back to the labs, laundry hadn’t been the first thing on his mind.

Now, though.

“Um. Sorry about the mess.”

“No, uh... that’s fine.”

It wasn’t, and Rodney figured the gross-factor was pretty high, but... well. He stared at the ceiling, covers gathered high to his bare chest. “You know, I feel not unlike June Cleaver.”

John turned his head slightly without actually making eye contact. “How do you figure?”

“Only sex in the nineteen fifties could be this awkward.”

Rodney nearly felt the heat from John‘s face burning the side of his arm. “Funny.”

“Not really. Ward and June going at it like hot sweaty mink is the most disturbing image in a whole array of disturbing images, and we’re in the _Pegasus galaxy_ , home to the space vampires and the hot cannibal natives in skimpy crotch flaps.”

John frowned thoughtfully. “I always wondered how Ward and June had sex if they slept in different beds, unless–“

“If you say “missionary” and “Ward and June Cleaver” in the same sentence, Major, I will not be held responsible for what I do.”

With a deep sigh that only John could make sound both exasperated and melancholy, he turned onto his side, finally, and looked at Rodney. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be. There’s only so much sex talk of my favorite parent stand-ins from my childhood that I can handle before I have a psychotic break.”

“Rodney.”

“Okay, fine, fine, yes.” He turned his head and _looked_ at John, bed mussed and sort of… glossy, with a sweaty sheen that made his skin look golden. The tips of Rodney‘s ears burned. “It’s obvious we have chemistry, Major.”

“That we do,” John said, and shifted around a little.

“It’s also obvious we have absolutely no idea what to do with that chemistry.”

John winced, squinting somewhere over Rodney‘s shoulder. “Your, uh. Your butt okay?”

“Which part?”

“You know which part,” John said, and added, as if it physically pained him to do so, “Do you need to see Carson?”

“And say what? “I fell ass backwards on Major Sheppard’s cock”?” Rodney shifted a little. “Thank you, but that’s an embarrassment for another day a long, long time from now. I don’t think sitting down is going to be on my top ten list of fun things to do for the next couple of days, though.”

John winced again, eyes clenching shut. “Jesus, Rodney.”

Anyone else, Rodney would have left them floundering in embarrassment. But it was John, and he looked so mortified that some previously unknown well of pity made itself known. Rodney sighed. “You’re military. I’m sure they don’t teach Lubrication Techniques 101 in flight school.”

“They do teach common sense.”

“Which we both know you left back on Earth in lieu of your hair care products.”

The faucet in the bathroom leaked loudly, echoing through the open door and into the sudden awkward silence.

“I swear to God, Rodney, I’m never this bad.”

“Oh, but you _have_ been bad.”

“On a few drunken occasions.” Off of Rodney’s look, John amended, “It wasn’t my fault, and she laughed. Laughing is so uncalled for.”

“You‘ve only been bad at sex once? Don‘t tell me you weren‘t one of those people who lost their virginity to a much older, experienced person,“ Rodney said. When John just stayed quiet, shifty eyed and wincing, Rodney howled, “Oh my God, you _are_ Kirk!”

“Why Rodney, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous,“ John said, finally smiling, lazily, under the messy fringe of his hair. While it was pretty sexy most of the time, after rolling around having wholly unsuccessful sex with Rodney, the gel had gotten stiff and clumped his hair in uneven spikes all over.

John looked, ears and all, like Sonic the Hedgehog.

Rodney winced, tucked the covers to his chin, and stared at the ceiling. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Real jealous.”


End file.
